Searching For Love
by Serenity Cosmos Riddle
Summary: Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, wants nothing more then to die. When he is saved by none other then Severus Snape, will he take his second chance and live, or will he try once more to end it all? (May become Severitus)
1. Breaking The Habit

**Harry Potter; Searching For Love**

**By: **_J-Chan (SCR)_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and the song 'Breaking the Habit' do not belong to me.

**Summary:** Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, wants nothing more then to die. When he is saved by none other then Severus Snape, will he take his second chance and live, or will he try once more to end it all? (May become Severitus or HP/SS Slash)

**Chapter One: **_Breaking the Habit._

_Memories consume like opening the wound_

_I'm picking me apart again_

_You all assume, I'm safe here in my room_

_Unless I try to start again_

The streets and homes of Privet Drive were engulfed in shadows. This particular day had been plagued by dark clouds and torrents of unrelenting rain. The lush grass of number 4 was crushed and drowned beneath the water, the well-kept garden over watered due to the storm, and the inhabitants of this house were in a rather somber mood because of the weather, leaving the house silent for the most part. Dudley Dursley, an obese teenager, sat on the couch playing with his new gameboy advance. His mother, Petunia Dursley, stood in the kitchen cleaning up the leftovers from dinner. The man of the house, Vernon Dursley, practiced his putting on a portable golfing green, contentedly sinking the ball in the whole repeatedly.

However, these were not the only residents of number 4. Harry Potter, a boy of 15 (soon to be sixteen), lay in his small room upstairs. This was no ordinary teenager though. He was very peculiar indeed. This boy was a wizard, and not only that, but perhaps the most well known wizard of his time. He was the boy-who-lived, or in his opinion, the boy who was cursed. Having been the target of the dark lord Voldemort, he lost his parents, was nearly killed, and then sent to live with his magic-hating relatives all at the age of one. Now, he was 15, having lived despite several attempts by the dark lord to kill him, and wished that he had been killed at the tender age of one.

He sat on the floor staring through tear infested eyes at the collected pieces of his mirror, his gift from Sirius. He didn't worry about anyone walking in on him, seeing this show of emotion. He was safe here in this room, safe from the Dursley's at least.

_I don't want to be the one the battles always choose_

_'Cause inside I realize that I'm the one confused_

_I don't know what's worth fighting for_

_Or why I have to scream_

_I don't know why I instigate_

_And say what I don't mean_

_I don't know how I got this way_

_I know it's not alright_

_So I'm breaking the habit_

_I'm breaking the habit_

_Tonight..._

He thought about his life for a moment, and then cast a wary glance at a new issue of the Daily Prophet. He hadn't bothered reading it; the headline said enough.

**'Harry Potter; Last Hope of the Wizarding World?'******

He hated it, and with a sudden burst of energy he snatched up the paper and shredded it, He didn't want to be the last hope! He wanted nothing to do with the war! He had lost too many already. He had lost his parents, Sirius, caused Cedric's death, and now he realized he had lost himself.

He didn't know who he was. He knew Harry Potter; the boy who lived, but didn't know just Harry.

He lay back against the bed frame silently, once again thinking about the past fifteen years. He fought so desperately all his life; fought against the Dursley's, fought back the pain brought on by his loneliness, fought to stay strong, fought Voldemort, and fought to keep his sanity. He lived, he fought, and no one knew of the inner turmoil within him. He kept a happy smile as often as he could, never told anyone of how he felt, showing weakness only when he could fight it no longer.

It wasn't fair!

Why should he be the one to carry the burden of the dark lord? How dare they set this upon his young shoulders? He refused to be the savior of the Wizarding world!

_Clutching my cure, I tightly lock the door_

_I try to catch my breath again_

_I hurt much more, than any time before_

_I have no options left again_

His eyes wandered down to the shattered mirror, looking at his distorted reflection. He was broken, just like his reflection. Grasping the largest shard he rose to his feet. He flicked the lock on his door so the Dursley's couldn't enter, though he'd be dead by the time they bothered to come get him. Nonetheless, he locked it and sat on the bed. Gazing at the shard, he could feel his breath quicken in anticipation.

Harry rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, grimacing at the recently closed wounds across his arm. Sure he knew that the others would disapprove strongly of his cutting himself, but it didn't matter. They didn't know the emotional pain he went through every second of every day, knowing that he was the cause of Cedric's death, Sirius' death, even his parents' death. The temporary physical pain was nothing compared to all that, and offered him a time of peace from the guilt ridden feelings invading his heart and mind. What was a little pain anyways? He had withstood the agony of being the victim of the Crutciatus Curse before. No slash across his forearm could compare to that curse.

He had a different intention tonight though. Only two days into the summer, and things took a turn for the worse. Dumbledore, deciding that he needed to inform the Dursley's of his situation, had written them a letter.

_Flashback.___

Harry stood in the kitchen fixing breakfast when Vernon sat at the dining table flipping through the post. He pulled out a manila colored envelope with a writing he recognized. Vernon opened the envelope grudgingly as he cast a look to Harry.

"It seems at least one of your kind knows how to properly send a letter." Vernon sneered as he pulled out the letter. Petunia wandered near and peered over her husband's shoulder curiously.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Dursley;" Vernon started. "Over the previous years at Hogwarts Harry has dealt with a great many difficult things. As you know his life is often threatened by Voldemort, and we do all we can to keep him safe, though he has proven capable of fending for himself. However, this last year has been particularly difficult on him, as he has suffered the loss of his godfather. I kindly request that you allow him some time to grieve and deal with this loss. If possible give him someone to talk to, as we are not able to be there for him at this point in time. Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore." His uncle looked at him as if he had just received a wonderful gift, whereas his aunt looked at him with pity and walked away.

"That criminal godfather of yours finally got what he deserved did he? Weren't planning to tell us though, eh? Figure you'd still be able to use him as a threat?" Vernon said as he stood.

"He wasn't a criminal, and he didn't deserve to die!" Harry replied, his blood beginning to boil.

"You said he was a murder yourself boy!"

"He was innocent! Framed by a man he thought to be his friend!" Harry yelled.

"Don't raise your voice at me, and don't you lie!" Vernon bellowed, his mighty fist throwing Harry into the counter, knocking the wind out of him. "Now," He said, voice lowering. "Go upstairs. I don't want to see your face again tonight. You can stay up there tomorrow too until I leave. You'll start doing your chores again and then going right up to your room." He took Harry by the collar and led him to the stairs.

_End Flashback._

Since then he had done as his uncle said. He went down in the morning and did his chores, grabbed something to eat, and then went upstairs. Harry had also picked up the bad habit of cutting himself then as well.

So here he was, now two weeks into the summer, sick of the chores, fed up with the Dursleys, and tired of only a moment's peace with lasting scars. He would be free of the guilt, the pain, the loneliness, and he wouldn't need to fight any longer.

One cut first. He made it just deep enough to draw blood. Red stained the sheets within seconds. A steady flow of the warm crimson liquid streamed from the wound. He then turned to his second wrist, and taking the small mirror shard in his bleeding and trembling hand, he slit that one open as well. Moments later he fell back on the bed, his own blood around him, and he welcomed death. He watched the sky turn red as the sun set before he slipped into darkness.

_I'll paint it on the walls__'_

_Cause I'm the one at fault_

_I'll never fight again_

_And this is how it ends_


	2. Confessions And Fury

**Harry Potter; Searching For Love**

**By: **_J-Chan (SCR)_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter does not belong to me.

**Summary:** Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, wants nothing more then to die. When he is saved by none other then Severus Snape, will he take his second chance and live, or will he try once more to end it all? (May become Severitus)

**Chapter Two: **_Confessions and Fury ._

Severus Snape groaned as he shifted beneath an invisibility cloak. He stood on the porch in an unhappy mood. He had a whole night of Potter-Duty ahead of him thanks to Lupin. 'Of all nights to have an emotional breakdown, it had to be tonight.' Snape thought bitterly, sympathy an alien concept to him. A silvery bird perched on his shoulder; he recognized it as a viator charm which carried your message to someone in a matter of seconds. 'Harry's in trouble. Hurry.' said the worried voice in his ear. Snape ran inside number four without a second thought. Petunia screamed as the dark man entered, his body becoming visible as he tore off his cloak.

"Where is Potter?" He growled, making the woman tremble and inch back as she pointed up the stairs. Snape was up the stairs quicker then you can say Firebolt. He looked around and saw only one door shut. Deciding that was it he moved to open it and when it didn't budge he drew his wand. 'Alohamora!' The door opened and he faltered at the site before him.

The famous boy who lived lie in bed, the sheets beneath him is turning scarlet with blood and the wounds on his wrist still allowing a steady flow of the crimson liquid to flow from them. Snape cursed. He checked the boy's pulse and sighed with relief when he found it, however weak. He swept the boy up in his arms and tore from the house. He tapped the tip of his wand on a ring hanging around his neck. The ring had been turned into a special kind of portkey for Snape that he normally used after particularly exhausting death eater meetings.

Severus appeared in his chambers at Snape Manor and laid Harry down on the bed as he hurried to a potion's cabinet he kept nearby. He snatched two small vials before returning to the boy and taking Harry in his arms. Severus lifted the frail 15 year old up and poured the liquid past his pale lips after closing the two wounds on his wrists. Harry sputtered and began to wake, the blood replenishing potion quickly taking effect as color rose to Potter's cheeks. Severus set him back down and stepped back.

"Drink this and go to sleep Potter." He said simply and waited to see that Harry drank the entire second potion before turning away and leaving the room. Harry looked around confused, but decided to think on it later as he still felt very drowsy.

…………………….

Severus sat silently in a small parlor near the bedroom where the boy who lived slept peacefully with help from a dreamless sleep potion. He had written a letter to the headmaster moments ago and sent it off with his owl, Phobos, informing him that Harry was here. Now he sits in a comfortable chair near the hearth with a novel. Nearly two hours later, and Severus had hardly moved. A small house-elf had come in and set a tray down on the table beside his master; a pot of tea, two cups, and a small plate of biscuits. Phobos then made his way to the tray and picked at one of the biscuits after Severus took the letter. The darker man grumbled and threw the paper in the fire.

'Harry bloody Potter stay here with him? The man really was senile!' Snape thought to himself. It took him a good few minutes and two cups of tea to clam down, and by that time Harry had woken up and hesitantly made his way out of the bedroom.

"P-Professor?" He said softly. Snape looked back at him and fought back a sneer. "Where am I, sir?"

"You are at my home. You will be staying here the remainder of the summer as no one else is available." Severus replied and looked the boy over fully, scrutinizing him. Potter looked sickly pale, once bright green eyes were dull; his previously untamable hair lay flat on his head and had grown a tad bit longer, and he clung to the wall as if he could collapse at any moment. "Come sit down Potter." Snape said as he poured them both some more tea.

Harry made his way to the chair next to Snape and slid down in it. Severus pushed a cup of tea to him and motioned to the plate of biscuits. He watched the teen take a sip of the tea, holding it near his face, basking in its warmth. Harry took another drink of the tea then held it on his lap, sitting quietly as he stared at his forearms.

"Why did you do it?" Harry asked, his voice so low it that Severus had to strain to hear him.

"What? Save your life, _again?_ I couldn't very well leave you to die." Snape replied harsher then he had intended.

"I wish you had…" Harry didn't raise his eyes, looking intently at his wrists still able to see the blood that had run down them in his mind's eye. Severus couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy at that moment, though the momentary sympathy was quickly shoved aside. The two then sat in silence for a moment until Snape heard a stifled sob. He turned his attention to Harry curiously to find the boy in tears.

Harry curled up on the chair, bringing his knees to his chest. Tears had come unbidden to his eyes and now streamed down his cheeks relentlessly. He hated that he was crying in front of Snape of all people, but couldn't stop the tears from coming.

Severus was at a loss, having no idea what to do. A memory forced itself to the surface, as he thought back to his days at school when he was in a similar position.

_A young Severus sat in the Slytherin boys' lavatory on the cold stone floor. It was his fifth year at Hogwarts, and he had been humiliated, taunted, and **hurt **again. He clutched a broken wrist to his chest, Potter had dropped him to the ground and Severus had landed in an awkward position, his hand bent the wrong way. 'The marauders' he thought bitterly, had caused him pain once more, but no one knew the extent of this pain. He may be able to keep up appearances when in public, refusing to allow anyone see him cry and act as if each wisecrack made at his expense had little effect on him, but each cruel word hurt him more then anyone would ever know. _

_Today, however, he couldn't take it anymore. Five years of this peer-induced torture was too much for him to handle any longer. He could taste the salty tears on his mouth, and ran his fingers along the smooth surface of a steak knife he had taken from the kitchens. Running it across his skin lightly as the door opened. _

_Lucius took the blade and threw it across the room. His words forgotten in this memory, but what he said had made no difference, though Severus knew the blond was scolding him. The seventh year - and Severus' only friend - had then swept down and comforted him with a kind embrace that surprised Snape. He never knew the older boy to be so gentle, in fact normally he seemed very detached from most of his emotions, but was grateful._

Severus sighed and stood, realizing the boy needed him now just as much as he had needed Lucius before. Severus sat on the edge of Harry's chair and hesitantly wrapped his arms around the boy. He could feel the teen tense for a moment and saw green eyes stare at him in shock, but soon enough Harry had accepted the gesture. He wrapped his arms around the elder man, feeling very much like a child, but unable to stop himself as he cried into Severus' robes. Having never allowed his emotions to be seen to this extent, he had never been held or comforted, and he liked the feeling despite the fact that it was the irritable potions master offering this small comfort.

"I don't know who I am anymore." He confessed quietly. "I'm called the boy-who-lived and the savior of the Wizarding world, but I don't know just Harry…He is still in the cupboard under the stairs, still locked away." He said. Snape stared at him, even more confused then before. 'Locked in a cupboard under the stairs?' He asked himself. He started to speak but the boy had yawned, and his grip loosening from around Severus' waist. Snape moved, looking down on the still tired boy. He was so frail, looking as if one rough touch and he would shatter; his hair tousled, his eyes with dark circles around them, tears still resting on his cheeks after a much needed cry, and…What was that? Severus leaned over, seeing an odd color on the pale skin where the shirt had been hiked up slightly.

He pulled the material up lightly and saw the grotesque mixture of colors making up a rather large bruise. Placing his wand to the wound a small image appeared, looking like a hologram, showing Vernon Dursley's meaty fist hit the boy and knock him back. A growl escaped his throat as the image vanished, furious that the beast of a man would hit such a fragile looking boy like he did. No child deserved that kind of treatment.

He called to a house-elf to look over Harry and then vanished.

The door to number four burst open as a very livid looking Severus Snape came through. "Dursley." He snarled menacingly as the large man backed away from him.

* * *

Sorry it took so long. I had finished the chapter a week ago, but it was completely different and I hated it. So that chapter was scraped and I wrote this. Hope you like it.

J-Chan


	3. Forgotten

**Harry Potter; Searching For Love**

**By: **_J-Chan (SCR)_

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter does not belong to me.

**Summary:** Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived, wants nothing more then to die. When he is saved by none other then Severus Snape, will he take his second chance and live, or will he try once more to end it all? (May become Severitus)

**Author's Notes: **My apologies for taking so long. I seem to run through muses faster then DADA professors.

**Chapter Three: **_Forgotten._

Harry wandered down the halls slowly, searching through the darkness best he could. He was so tired. A house-elf had tried to make him lie down earlier, but he had got up the instant the creature left. With his hands extended he groped his way around the shadowed corridor in search of an exit. He was in the home of Severus Snape, and he did not want to be. He wanted to be six feet under, to be pushing up the daisies, he wanted to run down the curtain and join the choir invisible. Then the wall ended, and before he realized what was happening he was already plummeting down the grand staircase. When he reached the floor all concisenesses was gone. He was out cold and blood tricked from a wound on his head.

Severus looked at the pitiful family trembling before him. With a sinister smirk he pulled the smallest of the three (Which was actually frighteningly large) and watched the two parents squirm. Vernon and Petunia could do nothing save for the slightest movements and occasionally speak when Severus permitted it. Dudley, however, was able to move and speak freely, but the wand aimed at him kept him on his best behavior.

"Now then Dursley... Whereas I may not particularly like young Mr. Potter, I can not stand child abuse of any kind. I saw what you had done to him, he still has the bruise, and I know you locked him in that cupboard over there at some point. How long would you say?" Severus asked his tone of voice frighteningly calm.

"Only when he deserved it." Vernon muttered.

"What was that, Dursley? How often did you say?" Severus questioned again as Dudley slowly began to change. Scales grew in place of skin, hair falling to the floor, and pupils slitting. Petunia gasped and stared at her son.

"Stop it!" She wailed. The boy's hair now gone and his scaly skin started turning an ivory colored white. Severus said nothing as he waited for an answer. "It was his room! He stayed there until you...you _freaks_ came!" She cried out, watching the weight disappear from her son, and a tail sprout from behind. Every time Dudley tried to speak only a faint hissing sound was heard and a long red tongue emerged from his mouth.

"Eleven years then... Locks are on the door as well, I see. You locked him in there. Your own nephew. It's muggles like you that make me wonder if the Dark Lord is right." Severus scowled and shook his head. "Ah look. Your son is nearly done with his little transformation. I think he looks better this way, don't you?" The bitter potions master looked to the shrinking boy with a malicious smile he hadn't donned since the days when he first joined the death eaters. The obese boy now crawled on the floor, a small white salamander. "He makes a much better salamander then human. At least this way he can be put to good use. Salamander blood is very powerful..." The two parents watched as their son, now a small fire-dwelling creature, wriggled in the dark wizard's hand. Severus smirked and took a seat.

The prestigious blonde stalked down the hallways of Severus' home furiously. Once or twice he would call out for the younger man, but never received an answer. His shoes clicked rhythmically against the marble floor as he returned to the entrance hall. Turning to the left staircase he decided to check the potion master's study. A soft whimper caught his attention though. Stopping, he turned on his heel and looked to the bottom of the right staircase. There – in a crumpled heap – lay a teenage boy whom Lucius couldn't identify properly in the dark. Strolling over to him, Malfoy Senior flipped the boy on his back. Staring up at him from the floor were the pained green eyes of Harry Potter, his lightning bolt scar visible slightly in the light cast from Lucius' lumos spell.

"W-Who are you?" asked a frightened voice that the blond had never heard come from this boy before. Inquisitively he looked the boy over and answered softly.

"I am Lucius Malfoy. I'm curious, what are you doing here Mr. Potter?" He answered. The boy just gave him a blank stare and pushed himself up with a groan.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry questioned. The name sounded unfamiliar to him. "I-I don't know. Where am I?" This man in front of him sent off all sorts of bells and alarms in his head, but he couldn't think why. "My head..." He moaned and placed a hand to his head, pulling away as he felt a sticky warm substance on his fingers. Blood. He staggered forward as a dizzy spell hit him.

"You remember...nothing?" Lucius asked, watching him reach for his head. Harry then fell forward into Lucius. The blond reacted quickly and caught the boy, a vicious smile crossing his pale lips as he wrapped an arm around the boy.

"N-no...I remember a family. They all had red hair. And there is a girl...Brown hair. I think we are friends. It's just...I don't know." Harry looked down as Lucius led him away until they reached a small parlor. Lucius' smile grew wider as he took a seat, pulling the frail boy on his lap before Harry could protest. A tap from his wand and the head wound vanished. He chuckled as the boy began to turn a dark red in the face. 'This could prove to be amusing.' Lucius thought.

"A red haired family and a brown haired girl...You couldn't mean...No. It couldn't be them." Lucius started.

"Who? Why?" Harry looked at the elder questioningly. "Tell me."

"There is only one family I know that you could be thinking of. The Weasley family, and the girl is a Miss Granger...I can't imagine a boy like you being friends with them though. The worst sort of people. They seem friendly at first, but they're really lying, manipulative people who prey on the gullible. Bad blood, the lot of them. I wouldn't be surprised though." Lucius said with mock concern. "If you remember them and nothing else then perhaps you had been a victim of their cruel games. It was probably them who did this too you. The only thing I can think of is that my dear friend, Severus, saved you and brought you here. Though, what happened after that, I could only speculate"

"I-I do remember pain. Loss. I remember ignoring letters from..."Harry struggled to remember, burring his face in his hands. "From Ron and Her-Hermione?"

"That is the name of two of them, about your age I would guess. How horrible. I hate to think that such a charming boy was used by them." Lucius shook his head. "Do you remember anything else child?" Lucius had managed to be kinder to the boy then he had ever thought possible. However, Harry Potter had little to no memories of anything. He could only dream of how well rewarded he would be if he could make the-boy-who-lived switch sides, and turn him against Dumbledore.

"I recognize you and another boy that looks like you. I remember the boy holding his hand out to me, offering friendship I think." Harry replied. "Were we friends?" He looked to the blond, desperate for answers. He wanted so badly to remember everything. He felt as if it were very important that he remember something.

"The boy was probably my son, Draco. You may have been friends. Perhaps I'll ask him, but he is away on vacation now with his mother." Lucius replied. The boy frowned a bit, disliking the thought of having to wait for answers that the boy, Draco, might've been able to answer. "But if you are a friend of Draco's, and I have little doubt that you are...You are as good as family to me." He smirked as the boy smiled.

Harry couldn't help but smile at the man who had so readily offered him a family. A feeling inside told him that he had always wanted a family. Despite the question of why he hadn't had a family that arose, he hugged the man and murmured a soft thank you.

Severus walked down the hall with a small cage containing three salamanders; the largest having odd black and blue marks on its skin, and another looking far to skinny. He heard the sound of people taking and a burning fire and readied his wand as he entered the room. He was not prepared for what he saw next.

Lucius sit on his couch twirling his wand in patterns to make different shapes and colors. This was not what surprised Severus though; as such a thing was not uncommon for the blond. The shocking thing was that a laughing Harry Potter lay across the couch, his head resting in the elder's lap as he attempted to catch little imitation dragons that fluttered around him. Lucius seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself too. 'The vindictive pedophile.' Severus thought as he watched Malfoy's hand caress the boy's pale chest, and if he wasn't such good friends with the man he would be furious. He was _very _curious as to why the two seemed so cozy together though.

"Lucius. What, pray tell, is going on?" Severus snapped, setting down the cage as he stepped forward.

"Severus! Where have you been? I came to visit, and what did I find? This charming young boy laying injured on your floor with no memory at all. How could you just leave him like that?" A smirk crossed the man's lips and Severus understood all too clearly.

"I wasn't aware that he had been in such a condition. I had left him in bed to rest." Before he knew it, Snape was nearly knocked over by Harry. The teen had rushed forward towards him.

"Does that mean you know who I am? What happened to me?" He asked hopefully.

"Perhaps." Severus answered cautiously, looking to Lucius. He had to be careful not to blow his cover. It was bad enough that Harry Potter was found in his home by the eldest Malfoy. Harry sighed and tottered back over to Lucius and sat down. The blond wrapped an arm around him and pulled the boy close. If Severus hadn't known better, it would've seemed like a protective and almost loving embrace, but he knew the reality; Lucius had found himself a new toy.


End file.
